


Juan's Christmas Gift

by bookscape



Category: Zorro (TV 1957)
Genre: Christmas, Gen, Navidad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-03
Updated: 2019-07-03
Packaged: 2020-06-03 11:11:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19462783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bookscape/pseuds/bookscape
Summary: Who is the mysterious priest who knows so much about what is going on in the pueblo?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Who is the mysterious priest who knows so much about what is going on in the pueblo?

Juan

**[2](http://www.bookscape.net/zshort/juan2.htm)**

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**[3](http://www.bookscape.net/zshort/juan3.htm)**

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**[4](http://www.bookscape.net/zshort/juan4.htm)**

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**[5](http://www.bookscape.net/zshort/juan5.htm)**

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**[6](http://www.bookscape.net/zshort/juan6.htm)**  
  
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_**Juan's Christmas Gift**_  
  
---  
  
**Introduction**

**In this story, Zorro meets up with a very mystifying and enigmatic junior priest named Juan, who seems to know much about those around him, has a great deal of compassion, even for those who are enemies, and mysteriously seems to be where he is needed most.**

**The characters of Zorro/Diego, Bernardo, Alejandro, Tornado and the rest of the Walt Disney pantheon belong to Disney and Zorro Productions.I use them with gratitude.The Russians, Father Miguel, and assorted supporting characters are mine and can be borrowed for the asking.Juan is Juan and you will have to read to the end to decide about him.**

**I want to thank Pat Crumpler once again for her patience in reading, suggesting and keeping me straight.I also thank Pat Dodez for willingness to read my stories, too.(And for being a darn good library aide.I knew I had a winner when she just about fainted right beside me looking at pictures of Guy on the school computer, back in the days before we had computers at home.I am grateful to Lynn Hodges, who first posted Juan’s Christmas Gift on the GWOL fanfiction archive and then when I made changes, uploaded those as well.I am also grateful to Olga Levina, who patiently taught me enough Russian to make the sailors more realistic and interesting.**

**I dedicate this story to my family, most particularly my son, Tommy, who, when I was writing this, was out west serving a mission, dedicating his life to teaching and preaching.Like Juan, he was serving, just as he still does.**

**Christmas, 1999, and Dec. 2001**  
  
---  
  
**Chapter One - Juan**

**Alejandro de la Vega felt he had much to celebrate. At present there were no obsessed or evil comandantes to contend with, and Zorro had been able to rest for a short while. There was now a sense of normalcy since the Mexican government had taken over control of California, and life was good.**

**"Diego, the season of Navidad is upon us. I would like to host one of the Posada fiestas," he announced over a chess game in the sala, one day in the middle of November.**

**Diego de la Vega paused in mid-movement and looked at his father with a knowing smile on his face, because he, too, had felt the enthusiasm and happiness of his father, and had been waiting for some kind of idea to manifest itself.**

**"Wonderful, Father, which night do you wish to do this?" he asked, curious.**

**"The first night, December 16th, and I want to contact Father Felipe and arrange for the orphans of the local missions to attend," Alejandro added with a bright smile. "We certainly have the room for the festivities, and I think the children would like that."**

**"What a fantastic idea! That should make the Posada even more special. Perhaps the children from the missions could play the parts in the procession of the Holy Mother and Joseph," Diego suggested thoughtfully. "And, of course, we must have a suitable Nacimientos to place near the entrance to the patio. The old crèche is quite small, and we must have the real reason for the Navidad festivities displayed prominently. This will be enjoyable; we have not celebrated like this for some time." Diego couldn't quite say, 'since Mother died,' but they both knew what he was talking about. The two men sat in thoughtful silence for a moment.**

**Finally Alejandro broke their reverie. "Sí, my son. And we will have several piñatas, so every child gets the opportunity to enjoy the confections and toys." Alejandro's eyes gleamed in anticipation. "But, of course, we cannot forget the one filled with water."**

**"Just as a joke, you should have that one for the adults without saying anything, mind you." Diego laughed. His father's good humor was infectious. He felt Bernardo's finger tapping on his shoulder. Looking up, he said, "You look excited, too, Bernardo, what ideas do you have for our happy Posada?"**

**Bernardo signed quickly, but Diego was able to catch most of his thoughts. "You wish to perform magic tricks for the children? Bueno, I think they would like that, too."**

**"I will ride up to San Gabriel tomorrow morning and speak with Padre Felipe, if you will talk to Padre Miguel in the pueblo, Diego," Alejandro stated. Diego nodded and made his move, which checkmated his father's king. Alejandro just stared at the chessboard, and then began to laugh.**

* * *

**The next morning, Diego and Bernardo rode into the pueblo, where they found the local woodcarver already working hard in preparation for the upcoming holiday season. His small nativity sets were set out for buyers to peruse. Some were painted; others were simply polished with oils to bring out the natural luster and shine of the wood. Diego picked up a figure of Mary and looked thoughtfully at it. Personally, he was impressed with the highlights the plain fine-grained wood exhibited. It showed off the incredible talent of the woodcarver, but he knew the plastered and painted figures were more popular.**

**"Señor Martinez?" Diego saw the carver was already aware of his interest. "How much time would it take you to make a Nacimientos for us? One, in which the figure of the tallest shepherd would be, say, two feet tall?"**

**"By the Saints, Don Diego, that is a hard order to fill this late, especially one that big," Carlos Martinez protested. But Diego saw a slight smile on the woodcarver's lips and he knew it would not be impossibility, just a bit more expensive for the de la Vega money belt. Diego didn't begrudge the vendor his desire to earn a few more pesos. The woodcarver's craftsmanship was well worth whatever he would end up paying, and the extra pesos would probably provide gifts for Carlos’ children on Dia de Los Reyes (Three Kings Day).**

**"A fairly simple one, with the Misterios as the center piece and a couple of shepherds, a few animals, and an angel. If there is sufficient time then you can also include the wise men. The plastering and painting of the faces and hands should be all that you need to do after you have carved them, as I will have our seamstress clothe the figures."**

**"Sí, Don Diego, I should have sufficient time. My son, Carlito, has progressed to the point where he is an added help to me. He has a great talent for the painting of faces," Martinez explained with a smile. "Is it possible that your family is going to host one of the Posada festivals?"**

**"Sí, Carlos, you will have to have the set ready before December 16th," he informed the woodcarver. Paying him an ample advance and bidding him good day, Diego sauntered over to the pueblo's little church.**

**He was greeted by a man who acted like an initiate, but was dressed as simply as the poorest peon was. Smiling broadly, the initiate took his hand in a warm handshake, and then said, "Ah, Don Diego, you are here to see Father Miguel perhaps? He has gone to visit the family of Jose Lugo, whose mother is dying." The man's handshake was strong; he was apparently used to physical activity and hard work. His wiry body exuded enthusiasm and friendliness, and Diego couldn’t help but feel drawn to him. But when he looked into the initiate's eyes, the caballero saw many years in them, and that puzzled him a bit, because the man did not look to be but a half dozen years older than himself. A hard life will sometimes do that, Diego thought to himself.**

**"I am sorry to hear that," Diego commented. "She has been ill for some time. You are..."**

**"Juan," the man said, simply. Then he turned to Bernardo, who was standing next to Diego. "Buenos Dias, Bernardo," Juan said, signing at the same time. The manservant smiled and nodded.**

**"Would you care to wait in the chapel, Don Diego?" Juan asked, the friendly smile still present. Diego nodded, and he and Bernardo entered the cool, dim interior of the church. Walking quietly to the front of the chapel, he kneeled, made his oblations and then sat down on a bench, letting the peaceful atmosphere settle over him.**

**"It is a wonderful thing to have a place where one can let true peace enter into the heart, is it not, Señor de la Vega?" Juan asked, philosophically.**

**"Sí," Diego murmured, glad that someone else got the same impression inside the little church that he did. While letting the ambiance settle around his shoulders, he pondered the statuary along the back wall.**

**"She is portrayed too sad," Juan said softly, as he too, looked at the figure of the Mother of Christ. Diego said nothing, keeping his thoughts to himself. "She was a happy person, even sorrow could not diminish her joyful spirit very long." He looked at Diego with a knowing smile. "Because she knew who it was she had had the privilege to bear and raise."**

**"I have never thought of the Mother of God in quite that way, Juan. I always thought of her as sad because of what she witnessed at the crucifixion. But that is an interesting observation. How did you come by it?" Diego asked in honest curiosity.**

**A slight noise behind them caused Diego to turn and look behind him. Father Miguel walked up to him. "Ahh, Diego, my son, how good to see you," he said softly. "How are things at the de la Vega hacienda?"**

**"Everything is fine, Father Michael," Diego said in English, to the priest who was born in Ireland, and whose church service had taken him to many parts of the world. "I came to ask a favor of you."**

**"And I would guess it has to do with the Posada celebration," Juan interjected, also in English. His command of the Anglo language was flawless, whereas Diego could not quite lose the Spanish accent when he spoke English. Diego was astonished at that and Juan’s astuteness and wondered at this man who seemed so learned. However, Juan’s friendliness was genuine, as well as contagious. This initiate had the same kind of good will that Sgt. Garcia had, but Juan was obviously much more intelligent and observant then the acting comandante could ever hope to be.**

**"I see that you have met my helper, Juan. He is of great service to me, and the children of the pueblo love him. He tells such marvelous stories, especially from the Bible." Father Miguel said brightly. "What exactly can I do for you, Don Diego? Although having come to know Juan as I do, he is probably right."**

**Nodding, Diego explained what his father had in mind, also informing Father Miguel of Alejandro's visit to San Gabriel. "We wanted to coordinate it with you, Father, and if Juan is such a good storyteller, then perhaps he could be prevailed upon to relate the story of Navidad to the young ones." With Bernardo's tricks and Juan's contribution to the festivities, he felt children would have an enjoyable time. And of course there were the Posada songs. His guitar would see much use on December the 16th.**

**Juan's eyes gleamed with an almost childlike anticipation, and his smile broadened. "How wonderful for the little ones! I would be delighted to tell stories of the Christ Child," he exclaimed enthusiastically. Father Miguel concurred, and since no one else had spoken for that night, it was agreed upon. The three men then discussed more details about the upcoming events, and finally Diego and Bernardo took their leave. Young de la Vega was pleased at the way things were turning out and was beginning to feel as excited as his father.**

**Don Alejandro arrived at the hacienda not too long after his son, with the joyful news that Father Felipe had also thought the idea a good one. The good padre had promised to make arrangements for the orphans to arrive in the pueblo on the afternoon of the first Posada, which was where the procession would begin.**  
  
---  
  
**[Chapter Two](http://www.bookscape.net/zshort/juan2.htm)**  
---  
**[Holiday Zorro Stories](http://www.bookscape.net/zshort/holidayintro.htm)**  
**[Zorro Contents](http://www.bookscape.net/zorrocontents.htm)**  
**[Main Page](http://www.bookscape.net/index.htm)**  
  
****


	2. Chapter 2

Juan

_**Juan's Christmas Gift**_  
  
---  
  
**Chapter Two - Zorro Visits the Magistrado**

**The new local Administrado, Rudolfo Diaz, while under the authority of the magistrado of Alta California, held virtually unlimited power over the area, which included Los Angeles. The Administrado, while for the most part a fair man in judgment, was also extremely pious, (and some said pompous), and frowned upon all the festivities that surrounded the once solemn observances, such as All Souls Day and Navidad. He felt the Posada and the Dia de Los Reyes should be more solemn, and unaccompanied by the frills of fiesta, gifts and gaiety. For the most part the citizens of Los Angeles and the surrounding area put up with the dour old man, mainly because his judgments were not excessive. But lately an undertone of complaints had been noised around the pueblo.**

**It was customary for those who had committed less serious crimes to have their fines or imprisonment reduced or commuted during this time of the year, but it seemed that lately, Administrado Diaz had decided to make breakers of the law examples to the citizens of the pueblo. As the season of Navidad seemed to edge closer and closer, the fines and jail sentences seemed to become even harsher.**

**Sitting in the tavern several days before the first Posada, Sgt. Garcia voiced what many in the pueblo were already saying. "Don Diego, it would seem that the deeper the frown of Señor Diaz, the harder the sentence that is rendered."**

**"I agree. It would also seem that the closer we come to Navidad, the more dour the man becomes. He is like a bear awakened out of its hibernation before spring, growling and snapping at anything nearby," Diego added. They both took sips of their wine in silence. It bothered him that anything would mar the happiness of this season, and he was determined to see what he could do to remedy the situation.**

**As if on cue, the man in question came storming through the door of the tavern, looking for all the world like a thundercloud. His flashing eyes searched among the patrons, and several seemed to cringe as his glare fell on them. As soon as he caught sight of Garcia, he boomed, "Sergeant, clear an area, we are going to convene a court in thirty minutes," he said.**

**Sighing, Garcia began to comply. Diego took his leave and was soon riding out of the pueblo toward home.**

**Forty minutes later, a black clad figure was hiding silently in a tiny alcove directly behind the Administrado. This little room had served a similar purpose many times before, and Zorro was very grateful for its continued usefulness. The hastily convened trial had apparently not started on time, which further soured the Administrado's bad humor.**

**"End the excuses, Señor Zavala! Your son, for whatever reason, destroyed part of the citrus crop of Don Alfredo de la Guerra. He must be punished," Diaz pronounced sonorously.**

**"I will be happy to cover the damage, but a jail sentence seems a bit harsh, especially at this time of year," came a voice that Zorro recognized as his father's. A prison sentence! So that was what had caused the young man's mother to cry. Zorro felt a small flare of anger building inside.**

**"No, Señor de la Vega. I repeat, this youth's act of vandalism needs to be punished and his punishment needs to serve as a witness to those who would think of doing the same thing. I do not think that a bit of time in the carcel would be a bad example." Not a small amount of murmuring accompanied the announcement.**

**Zorro sighed. Silently drawing his blade, he slid it between the draperies and let it gently prod the back of the Administrado. "Señor Administrado," he whispered. "The punishment most fitting for the recalcitrant youth would be to work in Don Alfredo's orchard; replanting, pruning, harvesting, and whatever else the hacendado would need for the boy to do for restitution. I would suggest that you reconsider your decision, Señor." The outlaw poked the point of his sword against the Administrado's back a bit more in order to highlight his suggestion.**

**Hearing the swift intake of the judge's breath, Zorro knew that he had been heard. A pause followed, and the masked man prodded him with the sword again.**

**With a release of breath, the Administrado finally spoke. "I have reconsidered the verdict. I believe that the best punishment would be for the boy to work for Don Alfredo to make restitution for the destruction that he caused. Young Jorge Zavala, you are hereby sentenced to work for Don Alfredo until the time that he determines you have worked off the amount of money you owe him for the loss of the four trees," the Administrado intoned. Zorro smiled and sheathed his sword. He was gratified to hear sighs of relief from the boy's parents.**

**Suddenly the material between them was torn down and Zorro stood facing a lividly angry man with a pistol in his hand. "I am not as afraid of you, Señor Zorro, as I may have sounded. You are now my prisoner and YOU will stand trial. Come out of there very quietly and slowly."**

**As he complied with the order, Zorro watched the pistol in the hand of the Administrado _,_ and looking into the man's eyes, he realized Señor Diaz was only looking for an excuse to fire the weapon. Right now, the outlaw would follow directions explicitly, and not make any sudden moves. Out of the corner of his eye he was surprised, though, to see Juan slowly approaching from his left side.**

**"Señor Administrado, what good would it do you to kill an unarmed man?" Juan asked softly. Everyone in the room seemed to be waiting breathlessly for the outcome of this confrontation. It wasn't very often that Zorro was actually taken prisoner. Alejandro's eyes were wide with fear.**

**"Unarmed?" Diaz laughed shortly. "What about that sword that was prodding me in the back a moment ago."**

**"It is in its sheath, and that effectively renders Señor Zorro unarmed. Besides, Señor Administrado, a sword cannot win against a pistol ball. Would it not be best to put El Zorro in the carcel and wait for the trial you suggested?" Juan asked.**

**The Administrado suddenly realized that the young priest's helper had rightly guessed his desires, and he colored slightly. "Who said anything about killing Señor Zorro? Move slowly toward the door, bandito. Sgt. Garcia, take two lancers and make sure this outlaw gets the room in the jail he so richly deserves."**

**Diaz shoved the pistol barrel against his back and that was when Zorro felt he had the best opportunity to escape. Pretending to stumble, the outlaw kicked back with his right leg and connected just below the Administrado's kneecap. Yelping in pain, Diaz jerked the hand holding his pistol downward as Zorro spun around and grabbed the official’s wrist. With a loud report the weapon discharged, the ball glancing just slightly across the outer part of Zorro’s right thigh.**

**His steel grip on the Administrado's wrist became even tighter and the useless pistol clattered to the floor. Simultaneously, Zorro's sword was out of its sheath and at Diaz' throat. Looking quickly behind him, the masked man was fearful that his attempt to escape might have resulted in injury for someone else, because he knew he had heard someone behind him.**

**Zorro saw Juan standing sedately behind him, a look of concern on his face. "Señor, your fears of anyone being injured are unfounded. As you can see, the ball passed through the material of my trousers and harmlessly away, although it could have been otherwise." Zorro blanched, seeing how close the bullet had come to passing through Juan himself, and not just his clothes.**

**Feeling a tiny trickling of blood down his leg, Zorro knew he had to leave before it became evident that he had been injured, slight though it was. Turning back to the Administrado, he said, "Señor Diaz, your beliefs on the way the observance of Navidad should be held must have no bearing on the judgments you render. The reason I have not visited you before is because up until recently, your verdicts have been, for the most part, fair. I will leave now, but remember what I have said, and let the people have a reason to celebrate this most glorious season."**

**Looking around, Zorro didn't see Juan, but did see the door to the storage room of the tavern standing open. Not being one to overlook such fortuity, Zorro gratefully dashed through the door, realizing just how lucky he was that no one else took this opportunity to try and capture him. Running out the back door of the tavern, he almost ran into Juan, who was quietly holding Tornado's reins.**

**"Señor Zorro, if you wish to ride to the church, I can tend to your wound there," the priest's helper said in a low voice. Dumfounded, Zorro could only nod. Swinging up on the stallion's back, he held his hand out for Juan and let him swing on as well. Just as the voices of Sgt. Garcia and Cpl. Reyes began sounding louder in the back rooms of the inn, Tornado galloped through the open gate of the tavern yard, and across the plaza. Soon the horse had carried the two men to the back of the church.**

**Juan jumped down and waited for Zorro to join him. "Let us go in where I can take care of your wound without interruption."**

**Zorro again nodded, and making a sign for the horse to hide in the nearby brush, accompanied the church worker into the priest's quarters. No doctor had ever cared for him with a gentler or surer hand. The outlaw was aching to ask this man several pointed questions about his background, but felt he couldn't without compromising his identity, since some of his observations had come earlier in the day. "Gracias, Juan, you are very kind."**

**"Thank you for your compliment, Señor Zorro. You know, I realize that what you do is for a greater good, but please beware of anger and complacency. You could have been killed in the tavern tonight, and that would have been a great loss," Juan said quietly.**

**Looking into Juan's eyes, Zorro saw only solicitude in them. "I appreciate your concern, Juan. And I doubly appreciate your help in the tavern. You diffused a potentially dangerous situation."**

**"I know, very dangerous for you. You have become a thorn in the side of many officials over the past three years, have you not, Señor?" Juan laughed as he finished tying the light bandage around the outlaw's leg.**

**Zorro laughed softly with him. "Juan, are you by chance a doctor? You are very good."**

**"No, I am not, although I have served under a master physician in my younger days. There, Señor Zorro, this should make it more comfortable for you to ride to your hacienda. Remember to be very careful when you ride in the mask. Vaya con Dios," Juan said.**

**Still perplexed, Zorro mounted Tornado and was halfway home before he realized that the priest's helper had referred to him as a hacendado. He felt a small bit of alarm, but for some reason he trusted the stranger explicitly and so he squelched his anxiety.**  
  
---  
  
**[Chapter Three](http://www.bookscape.net/zshort/juan3.htm)**  
---  
**[Chapter One](http://www.bookscape.net/zshort/juan1.htm)**  
**[Holiday Zorro Stories](http://www.bookscape.net/zshort/holidayintro.htm)**  
**[Zorro Contents](http://www.bookscape.net/zorrocontents.htm)**  
**[Main Page](http://www.bookscape.net/index.htm)**


	3. Juan

Juan

_**Juan's Christmas Gift**_  
  
---  
  
**Chapter Three - Posada**

**The following three days were a flurry of activity, as the last minute preparations were made. Diego had personally never seen such copious quantities of sugar in one place in his life, and couldn't help but wonder how many children would have bellyaches on December the 17th. Juanita, the cook, stayed busy preparing the confections for the piñatas and for the small baskets that would be sitting by the bowls of fruited punch. The baskets themselves had been delivered days previously and were piled haphazardly near the sala door. Servants had gathered bags of nuts and fruits, the former to go in piñatas and the latter to be served as refreshments.**

**As Diego and Bernardo were hanging up brightly colored paper lanterns all around the patio, a small cart arrived from the pueblo. "Buenos Dias, Don Diego, Bernardo," Juan called out as he carried in two magnificent piñatas. "I was not busy at the church, so I offered my services to the maker of these works of art. Where would you like me to put them?"**

**Looking down from the ladder on which he stood, Diego pointed to the sala door. "Set them on the table, Juan. And many thanks for your help." The artisan followed the priest's helper with two more of the huge piñatas.**

**Juan stood under the ladder, after the last two pottery and paper mache creations had been carried into the hacienda. "I can see from the preparations, that the children are going to have a fine time," Juan said with a bright smile. He gathered up two more lanterns and handed them up to Bernardo and Diego.**

**Alejandro came out from the sala to survey the preparations. Standing near the ladders, he looked at Juan in mild curiosity. "Father, this is Juan," Diego told him. "He is Father Miguel's helper and he has graciously agreed to tell stories at the Posada. The good padre has told me that Juan is an excellent storyteller." Alejandro was the recipient of Juan's bright and friendly smile.**

**With a slight bow, Juan greeted Diego's father. "I am honored to meet you, Don Alejandro."**

**"Welcome to our hacienda, Juan, and thank you for helping us out at the Posada. My son is very good with music, but I am afraid that neither of us excel in the art of story telling," Alejandro said.**

**"I am delighted to be able to tell stories at your Posada," Juan told the elder de la Vega. After helping for a little while longer, the church helper rode back to the pueblo with a servant.**

**"Diego, Manolito is bringing a small crate of fireworks that came into San Pedro harbor on a ship from the orient. I have heard of fireworks at the fiestas, and I decided to try shooting off a few near the end of the festivities," Alejandro explained.**

**"I hope that we do not over-excite the children, Father," Diego laughed. Every time Alejandro had heard of a new novelty, he wanted to try it. Diego decided that his father was going to enjoy the Posada as much or more than the children were.**

* * *

**Sgt. Garcia's big Percheron shifted its weight, (and the sergeant's as well) from one side to the other, jingling its tack. Diego's palomino stood quietly. The pair heard the two wagons long before they saw them. The happy voices of the children carried over the rooftops of the buildings in the pueblo, floating almost like the voices of angels. The sun indicated that it was mid-afternoon and there was yet time for the children to attend the small Pastorela that Father Miguel had put together for the local residents.**

**"Ah, Don Diego, they sound so happy now, and the festivities have not even begun yet," Garcia said with a deep smile.**

**"It is the happiness of joyful anticipation, Sgt. Garcia," a voice said from behind them. Diego recognized the voice of the priest's helper, Juan. "The anticipation is sometimes even more delightful than the event actually is, although in this case, I greatly suspect that the children will not be disappointed." He walked in front of the horses and watched with the two men.**

**"Buenos tardes, Juan. Are you ready for your night of storytelling?" Diego inquired with a chuckle.**

**"Oh, yes, Don Diego, my anticipation is almost as great as the children's, I believe. I love telling the stories from the Bible. In fact, Father Miguel has noised abroad the rumor of my talent so much, that I am telling stories at every Posada, not just yours," Juan announced with a laugh.**

**Just then the two wagons of mission children rolled into the plaza and creaked to a stop. Father Felipe stood up and greeted Diego. "Diego, my son, the young ones have already decided who is going to play the various parts. They even gathered the materials needed for their portrayals," the priest told him with a chuckle. "You and your father have made many little ones very happy, Diego," Father Felipe added softly.**

**Diego colored slightly. "It was my father's idea entirely, although I am glad he thought of it. There has been much laughter and activity in our hacienda this past month, and that is a good thing."**

**Father Miguel joined them. "Ah, just in time for the Pastorela," he said in anticipation. Directing the children into the area in front of the chapel, he soon announced the beginning of the play, which chronicled the journey of the shepherds to see the Christ child. Each time the actor representing Satan appeared to lay a new snare for the poor shepherds, the children booed and hissed with great passion. And they cheered when the intrepid heroes overcame the various traps laid for them. Soon the little play was finished and the young ones climbed onto the wagons once more for the journey to the de la Vega hacienda.**

**Just before they reached the gate to the patio, the wagons stopped and the children playing the different parts, jumped down and got their homemade costumes ready. The more 'richly' clad innkeepers were ushered into the patio by Bernardo.**

**Juan paused near the Nacimientos display. Diego noticed that as the helper gazed at the little statues of the Christ child and his mother, the man's face almost glowed and a look which seemed to be that of longing came over him.**

**The little girl portraying the angel stood wide-eyed near Juan, and a boy and girl were just behind her. Suddenly, the little angel became very frightened and the tears started trickling down her cheeks. Diego started over to her, but Juan knelt down and gathered her up, whispering in her ear and putting a comforting arm around her shoulders. A smile crossed her face and the tears stopped as suddenly as they had begun. Diego sighed in relief, and at that moment, Alejandro announced that all was in readiness.**

**The angel led the procession, with Mary and Joseph right behind. The young man knocked on the door. "Who is knocking on my door?" came a young, but gruff voice from inside.**

**"Please, kind sirs," 'Joseph' called out. "My wife is about to have a baby and we need a place to stay."**

**"No, no, we have no room, you cannot stay here," came the answer from inside the patio. There was a pattering of feet as the 'innkeepers' moved to their next position. The procession continued through the gate, with the same request made and the same answer given. Finally the group reached the sala door, where the hard-hearted innkeepers waited inside.**

**"Please, kind sirs, my wife is about to have a baby, a holy baby, the Son of God, please give us a place to rest," came Joseph's last plaintive request.**

**"Enter, Holy Pilgrims," came the reply and the innkeepers came out of the sala with great smiles on their faces. Father Felipe motioned the entire group to kneel and he gave a prayer of thanksgiving. As soon as he had said 'amen,' the air rang with festive cheers and the chattering of children. The children looked in awe at the huge piñatas hanging above them on ropes.**

**Don Alejandro brought out blindfolds and Bernardo helped tie one on the youngest. One by one, each child got a chance to swing at a piñata, receiving cheers when the stick connected with the decorated clay pots. Screams of delight accompanied the total breakage of a piñata with a mad scramble for the nuts, toys and confections that spilled out.**

**A piñata had been hung for the adults, and each chaperone got a chance to swing at the dancing, bouncing paper machied effigy. Diego bowed out of the contest at the very beginning by grabbing the rope and pulling the piñata up and down as the contestants swung at it. When Sgt. Garcia was blindfolded and took the large stick in his pudgy hands, Bernardo noticed a sudden gleam in the eyes of his patrón. Diego waited for the sergeant to reach back for a mighty swing and then let the rope slide through his hands just enough for the stick to connect solidly with the piñata. With a mighty crack, the pot burst and water showered over the hapless sergeant.**

**Garcia sputtered and then began to laugh right along with everyone else. The evening progressed merrily. Juan never seemed to run out of stories, and when he had finished telling of the nativity, then he continued on, telling of the growth and mission of the Savior. Some of the children never left his side the entire time he was telling the stories. Diego stood nearby for a while and found himself picturing in his mind's eye, the dusty hillsides and broad shores of the Lake of Galilee. Father Miguel was right, Juan was a master storyteller to have his audience able to see so vividly, the events he was narrating.**

**Many of the children hovered near Bernardo, trying in vain to figure out how the mute could trick them so easily. The manservant's nimble fingers produced eggs and coins from ears, hands, and sleeves and seemingly from mid-air. Bernardo's broad smile indicated how enjoyable this was for him. Occasionally Diego would get out his guitar and sing a few Posada songs with some of the children. Sgt. Garcia's rich bass voice floated across the patio, blending with that of the hacendado’s tenor.**

**"Your voices blend very nicely," Juan said, during a break in his storytelling. "A heavenly choir could not do a better job, señores." Sgt. Garcia blushed.**

**"Gracias, Juan. I have always admired the sergeant's voice. It is wasted in the Army," Diego commented, adding to the sergeant's discomfiture.**

**Almost too soon, the children began to tire and the younger soon started nodding off in the arms of various adults. Alejandro decided it was time to try out the fireworks and set up the rockets outside the gates of the patio. At the explosive ignition of the first rocket, the children screamed and then clapped their hands in delight at the different colored flashes and sparkles of light that exploded in the sky. A great cheer went up when the last rocket was exploded.**

**Bernardo and Juan handed out the colaciones, or baskets of confections to the orphans and they sleepily trudged to the wagons for the journey back to the mission San Gabriel. "It was a most enjoyable evening, Diego," Alejandro sighed as the wagons rolled out of sight.**

**"Yes, Father, it was," Diego concurred.**

**Juan walked up to the father and son. "We will take our leave, Don Alejandro. I want to thank you for inviting me. It has been a while since I have had such an enjoyable evening, or should I say night. Dawn is only a few hour away." Juan laughed as he and Father Miguel got into a small carriage and rode away. "Vaya con Dios," his voice drifted back to them.**  
  
---  
  
**[Chapter Four](http://www.bookscape.net/zshort/juan4.htm)**  
---  
**[Chapter One](http://www.bookscape.net/zshort/juan1.htm)**  
**[Holiday Zorro Stories](http://www.bookscape.net/zshort/holidayintro.htm)**  
**[Zorro Contents](http://www.bookscape.net/zorrocontents.htm)**  
**[Main Page](http://www.bookscape.net/index.htm)**


	4. Juan

Juan

_**Juan's Christmas Gift**_  
  
---  
  
**Chapter Four - The Russians**

**Capt. Sergey Petrov scowled at the shoreline in distaste, and pondered his options as he stroked the dark black beard that hung over the top of his barrel chest. He knew he was well south of his destination, but he could not sail back north until the 'Emperor's Jewel' was restocked with provisions. A third of his men had been stricken with scurvy, which was part of the reason for their difficulty at sea. When the monstrous storm had hit the ship about five miles west of Monterey bay, Petrov had been short-handed because of the sickness, and therefore had been forced to try to run south of the winds.**

**Now he was near a port in southern California that was unknown to him and he had heard rumors of these southern Californians. Ominous rumors. His second in command, who was the only member of the crew who had known Spanish, had died during the storm. Pulling on the curly strands of his beard, Petrov grunted and then began issuing orders. "Dmitriy," he shouted. A more slightly built, younger man dashed over to him and stood at attention. "You will pick out a dozen of the most fit men and arm them for an excursion on shore. We need provisions and I see no other way to get any then to just take what we need if they will not freely give them to you. I am told that the Californios that live south of Monterey raise much cattle and fruit. We need both. If anyone opposes you, do what you need to do to insure the safety of the men." Dmitriy saluted and turned to comply.**

**Several hours before sunset, the band of Russian sailors was rowing ashore in two small boats. Shortly after pulling up on shore they came across a farmer with a wagon full of hay. "Santa Maria!!" the farmer screamed, when he saw the gaunt and bearded men. They looked to him, for all the world, like demons from Hell. His load that he was going to sell to a nearby hacendado was forgotten. The two sturdy mules were forgotten. Throwing the reins aside, the farmer scrambled down from the wagon and ran into the brush that lined the dusty roadway. From concealment, he made the sign of the cross and watched as the thirteen men climbed onto his wagon and drove it back in the direction from which he had come. The speech the men uttered sounded deep and ominously guttural to his Latin ears also.**

**Dmitriy Sidorov laughed in amusement at the sight of the peasant running into the bushes. "Nikita, you drive the mules. The rest of you get in the back. Why walk when we can ride in comfortable hay?" Soon the men were resting while Nikita turned the team around and headed east along the road.**

**It wasn't long before the sailors came to a small rancho, and they were perplexed to note there was nobody around. Shrugging his shoulders, Dmitriy sent the men in pairs to look around for any foodstuffs and supplies that they might be able to use on the ship. Soon, the wagon had a small amount of dried beef, wine and fruit. Heading onward, the Russians next came to a larger rancho with a more substantial casa grande. This time there were a few servants, who essentially had the same reaction as the farmer.**

**"Stop them, Misha," Dmitriy ordered, using Mikhail’s nickname. The cook, and the two house servants were herded into a corner of the sala at the point of a knife. The cook fell to her knees and began praying. Dmitriy was disturbed at the abject terror that his appearance was causing, but not knowing Spanish, he couldn't reassure the three servants. "Does anyone know some other language that these Californians might recognize?"**

**"I know German," Mikhail answered. He addressed the trio in that language, but they just looked at him fearfully. Dmitriy then made signs to indicate that they were hungry and thirsty. The male house servant nodded and motioned for the sailors to follow him. First they went to the wine cellar, where Dmitriy ordered most of the men to carry out what they could. Then they went to the storeroom behind the kitchen, where copious amounts of dried beef hung for easy access by the cook. There were also nuts, citrus fruits in baskets and vegetables in barrels. It was all carried out to the wagon.**

**Trying to reassure the man who had helped them, Dmitriy smiled, patted his stomach and bowed. Then the group headed back to the shore where they had left their boats. "We will unload this on the shore and Nikita will supervise three of you in loading these goods onto a boat. Then take it to the 'Jewel.' The rest of us will go back for another load," Dmitriy said in way of instruction. "When the vegetables are unloaded, use these barrels to get water at the spring we saw nearby. We should be in a position to leave with the morning tide, before these Californians can gather a force against us. Dmitriy fully believed they were in the vicinity of the place where one of his government's agents was murdered a year or so previously.**

**Later that evening, further on the same road, Dmitriy and his group of seven came upon an almost deserted hacienda. The scenario was essentially the same, but this time the servants put up a fight. The two menservants were finally subdued, but not before one of the sailors had been killed.**

**"Let me gut this Californian flea for what he did to Ivan!" one of the sailors said angrily.**

**"No," Dmitriy ordered. "They were just protecting their property. Misha, see if one of these men can understand you." Mikhail complied, receiving the same blank stare as before.**

**Then the eyes of one of the servants widened and he said in a loud whisper, "Zorro!"**

**Dmitriy swung around and saw nothing substantial in the darkened end of the sala. But he could have sworn that he had barely seen some kind of large animal or bird flowing through an open doorway into the next room. "You, go and see what that was," he pointed to one of his men.**

**After awhile a hollow thud came from the other room, and Dmitriy called out impatiently, "Petjka, where are you, what have you found."**

**In the kitchen, Zorro, who had warned the servants to make no noise, knew the intruder was calling the unconscious man at his feet. He was unable to understand what was being spoken, but guessed it to be Russian. In the hopes that they could understand German, he called out, making his voice sound as mysterious and eerie as he could. " _Ich bin Herr Fuchs_." **

**Dmitriy turned to Mikhail. "That sounded like German, what did he say?"**

**"He said he’s Mr. Fox, sir," Mikhail answered.**

**Dmitriy’s face became cloudy with anger. He had hoped they would be able to take what was in this house and quit this country without incident. But apparently that was not to be. " _Lis? Kakoy, k dyavolu, lis?_ _Ya s etogo lisa shkuru spuschu_!" he cursed. **

**Mikhail translated, "The Fox? What the devil kind of a fox. I’ll strip the hide off that fox!" The spectral voice just laughed a merry, satiric laugh that echoed throughout the room.**

**"I didn’t ask you to translate that, bolvan, (you blockhead)," he growled to his subordinate. "But ask him who he is, this fox," Dmitriy ordered. Mikhail sheepishly complied, but the only response was another mocking laugh. A slight whispering sound of feet came to the Russians' ears, but no one could tell in which direction the sound was coming. Dmitriy cocked his pistol and tried to aim, but found there was nothing to aim at.**

**Soon a thud of a body hitting the ground caused Dmitriy to pivot around again, this time toward the opposite end of the room, where he saw the floating of black satin and silk and then nothing. Firing his pistol, he knew he had missed when he heard the laugh again.**

**"Light some candles, quickly," Dmitriy said in a trembling voice. Another sound of a slight struggle and yet another one of the sailors was left prone on the hardwood floor. The remaining sailors kept turning and looking toward darkened corners. Two more shots rang out, but the whispering of black silk told him that they had been no more successful then he had been.**

**"Who are you," Mikhail asked once again, in a louder voice. "We should get out of here, sir," he told Dmitriy.**

**"Russian sailors do not run from men who hide in shadows," Dmitriy said gruffly.**

**"I am a poltergeist, men from Russia," the voice across the room said in a manner that seemed at once ethereal and uncanny. A muffled groan and another body sank to the ground. Mikhail translated. The other two sailors moaned in fear, and moved closer to Dmitriy in the middle of the room.**

**"Get the candle lit, I said," the Russian sailor ordered. But as soon as one candle was lit, a slight popping noise snuffed it out again.**

**"We will talk, since you seem to have the upper hand, whoever you are," Dmitriy finally said after pondering for a moment.**

**"Put down any weapons that you have, gentlemen," the voice ordered. After Mikhail’s translation, the Russians complied. In Spanish, the voice then ordered the two servants, who had been cowering just inside the kitchen, to gather up the pistols and knives. "Take them outside the sala, and wait there," they were told.**

**"Now, what is your purpose for being here," the voice asked. Mikhail translated.**

**"Tell him that we are sailors that were blown off course by a storm and we needed food and drink," Dmitriy said. "And ask him if we can light a candle to see with whom we are speaking."**

**"Yes, but remember that I am almost as dangerous in the light as I am in the dark," the voice said. A candle was lit and its light revealed a man clad all in ebony black, from head to toe. A mask covered the upper face and a sword was in one hand, with a whip in the other.**

**Dmitriy had known that there had been only one speaker, but the idea that nine men had been defeated by the subterfuge of one masked adversary, irritated and disgusted him greatly. Evidently Mikhail felt the same way and tried to rush the Californio. A slight flick of the wrist holding the whip was all that was needed to bring his comrade down.**

**"I said I was dangerous. Do not tempt me further. I would like to keep my good humor, this season of Weihnacten."**

**As Mikhail slowly pulled himself to his feet, Dmitriy saw most of his men in unconscious in heaps on the hardwood floor. He was astonished at the prowess of this masked man, and said as much.**

**The man shrugged. "I had the element of surprise on my side." With a slight frown the man continued, "Why did you not come to someone during the day and ask for help. Do you not know that Californios are extremely generous?"**

**"We had been told that a countryman had been murdered in this area and we were worried that we would meet the same fate," Dmitriy said through Mikhail. The Russian leader saw Pyotr slipping quietly from the room behind the black clad man. Perhaps surprise could work in both directions, thought Dmitriy to himself.**

**But as quiet as Pyotr tried to be, he was not silent enough. Making a half turn, the point of Zorro's blade found itself resting at the end of his assailant's nose, while the whip continued to menace the other three men.**

**"I have offered to discuss your problem with you," Zorro said, with a slight smile, motioning for the man to join his fellows. "Californios may act suspicious at times, but they ARE generous," he added. Mikhail continued translating.**

**Dmitriy sighed. "Any chance that you speak Russian?"**

**Zorro shook his head. "I would be speaking to you in your language, if I did," he pointed out.**

**"But I do," a voice answered, and a smaller figure divorced itself from the shadow of the doorway. "Zdravstvujtje," Juan greeted the sailors.**

**Zorro looked at Juan in astonishment. "How do you do that?" he asked, incredulously.**

**The church helper laughed pleasantly. "In this case, I simply followed you when I saw you ride through the pueblo," he said to the outlaw. Turning back to the sailors, he told them, "I am called Juan and this is El Zorro. If you need help, I am sure that we can work something out. Why not light some candles so we can see one another more clearly," Juan suggested.**

**Soon the group was conversing, with Juan the translator for both parties.**

**"Tell Captain Petrov that tomorrow is Christmas Day, we should all be able to worship together at the early morning mass and then there should be some of the rancheros who will help you, so you can continue your journey back to Russia," Juan suggested.**

**"Is it past midnight yet?" Dmitriy asked. Juan nodded. "Then it is Christmas Eve. I did not even know what day it was," he added in a soft voice.**

**"That it is, and you might also want to attend the last night of the Posada," Juan offered, also translating his comment for the outlaw.**

**"Juan is right. Let us celebrate Navidad and then we can provision you for your homeward journey," proposed Zorro, with a smile. Juan translated for the outlaw. "Why not go and talk to your captain and we can meet later in the day."**

**"Spasibo vam," Dmitriy said softly, thanking Juan and Zorro. The sailors gathered their still unconscious comrades, loaded them on the wagon, and headed back to their ship.**

**Looking up at the sky, Juan commented, "It is near dawn, would you mind letting me ride with you? It is a long walk back to the pueblo."**

**"Where is your horse?" Zorro looked around in astonishment.**

**"He is obviously not here," Juan answered with a laugh. After mounting, Zorro reached down with his arm to let Juan swing on behind him. "What a glorious day this is," Juan commented brightly as they rode along.**  
  
---  
  
**[Chapter Five](http://www.bookscape.net/zshort/juan5.htm)**  
---  
**[Chapter One](http://www.bookscape.net/zshort/juan1.htm)**  
**[Holiday Zorro Stories](http://www.bookscape.net/zshort/holidayintro.htm)**  
**[Zorro Contents](http://www.bookscape.net/zorrocontents.htm)**  
**[Main Page](http://www.bookscape.net/index.htm)**


	5. Juan

Juan

**_Juan's Christmas Gift_**  
  
---  
  
**Chapter Five - Urn of Fate**

**Although Capt. Petrov was still a bit suspicious, he nevertheless relented, because it was a holy day, and he allowed whichever of his men wanted to go ashore to do so. In the early afternoon, the captain was surprised to see several wagons pull up on the beach loaded with provisions.**

**"S Rozhdjestvom Khristovim, (Merry Christmas)," Juan shouted from the lead wagon. When the goods were rowed out to the ‘Emperor’s Jewel,’ he informed Capt. Petrov that several hacendados from the Los Angeles area had gathered the goods and would have felt remiss if they didn't help their friends from Russia.**

**"Spasibo tebje," Petrov murmured, overwhelmed by the generosity of the local people. He, along with most of the sailors, decided to go and observe the Navidad observances after the provisions had been stored below decks.**

**"Nje zah chto," answered Juan brightly. "It is nothing among friends," he explained.**

* * *

**"Well, Bernardo," Diego said quietly from the back of the crowd observing the last Posada procession. "It would seem that Navidad has not only softened our dour Administrado, but it has made the Russians and Californios friends, at least for the season." Bernardo nodded his agreement.**

**As the evening progressed, Juan again was in demand as a storyteller, and again he mesmerized everyone with his vivid accounts. "It is an enviable talent to be able to tell a story so well," he murmured to his mozo. Bernardo pointed out in sign that part of the time, Juan was telling the stories in Russian. Diego nodded. He had vaguely noticed that, too, but decided that the change in language didn't diminish the impact of the stories at all. Probably because they were so familiar, he thought.**

**As the fiesta progressed into the morning hours, the groups gravitated to the church, where Father Miguel held mass to celebrate the glorious birth. Afterwards, the sailors were invited to many different homes for dinner. Diego invited three home with him. " _S_ Rozhdjestvom Khristovim," one of them held up his glass in a toast at the dinner table. Alejandro didn't know what was said, but Diego had picked up enough during the day to know the meaning of the phrase. They all raised their glasses to toast the holiday and the feelings of good will that it brought with it. Then Alejandro saluted his homeland. The Russians joined in, next responding with another toast of their own. **

**In amusement, Diego watched them come up with toast after toast, and he began sipping tiny swallows of his wine to avoid becoming drunk. Alejandro finally put his hand up and motioned for them to stop. Laughing, the Russian sailors understood and drained their glasses without any more toasting.**

**The afternoon was spent quietly with friendly chess matches and music, which each party provided to the other. In the late afternoon the group returned to the pueblo, where a huge urn had been placed in the center of the plaza. "Ah, Don Diego, are you going to participate this year?" Sgt. Garcia asked him in his booming voice.**

**"Of, course, Sergeant," Diego answered. Garcia had not been a sergeant long when he had drawn Diego's name from the Urn of Fate. It had been the year before young de la Vega had sailed off to Spain. Garcia had considered Diego his close friend since that time. Diego penned his name on a slip of paper and dropped it in the urn. Bernardo followed suit, as did most of the spectators in the crowd.**

**"Will the oldest members of the community who are participating come to see who their new year long friends will be?" Father Miguel invited. People started to line up in order to select a name from the urn.**

**A young sailor tugged on Diego's sleeve to get his attention. In sign, the Russian explained that the weather was changing and they must go back to their ship. They would need some servants to come with them to return the wagons to the pueblo. Diego nodded and found a few volunteers. As the Russian sailors climbed into their borrowed transportation, several turned back and waved to their newfound friends. "Do svidahnija _,"_ they called out. **

**"Do svidahnija _"_ Diego answered. "Vaya con Dios, _"_ he added as the wagons rattled out of the plaza. The caballero looked skyward and noticed the thickening clouds. It would not be unwelcome to receive rain, the area needed it; the last months had been drier than usual.**

**Bernardo brought his attention back to the matter at hand with a tap on his arm, and Diego strode forward to pull a slip of paper from the urn. The manservant followed soon afterward. In amusement, Diego recalled how the Californios had altered this custom. Whereas in Spain, someone pulled two slips of paper out of the urn for each pair, in Los Angeles the individual pulled a slip out, the belief being that a person would have two good friends for the coming year instead of just one.**

**Last year, Diego had pulled the name of an eligible and lovely señorita, and a different, but equally lovely and eligible señorita had pulled his name from the urn. It had taken a few months before both young ladies had given up in disgust. The caballero had almost sworn to give up the custom, because the two young señoritas had begun interfering with his clandestine activities, causing him some awkward moments.**

**When Diego opened his slip of paper and looked at it, he was surprised, but still pleased to see Bernardo's name on the paper. Bernardo opened his paper and was startled to see Diego's name.**

**Sgt. Garcia, looking over their shoulders, boomed, "Too bad, Don Diego, no senoritas this year, but tell me the odds of something like that happening; both of you drawing each other's names. Oh, well, that is the luck, everyone knows that the servant and the master cannot be friends."**

**Garcia walked to the urn to pull a piece of paper. "By the Saints," he cried a moment later. "Señorita Agnes Morales!" The sergeant looked very pleased, because while the señorita was not beautiful, nor was she very young, she was from a fairly wealthy family. Looking to one side of the crowd, Diego noticed that the señorita in question did not look so pleased. He laughed softly.**

**"Don Diego, do you believe that the servant and the master cannot be friends?" Juan asked softly. Diego jumped slightly, he had been unaware of the man’s approach.**

**Looking steadily at the shorter man, he answered, "No, Juan, in this case especially, the master and servant can be very close friends. But from the look in your eyes, I think you already know that," Diego said thoughtfully, surprised at his own candor. He and Bernardo had been very careful to keep up the pretenses of their positions, and both men were well aware of their respective ranks in the order of things. But both were also conscious of the deep friendship that had grown from the time they had met and most especially from the moment that Diego had donned the mask of the Fox.**

**"Yes, and a good master also serves," Juan added thoughtfully. A sprinkling of rain ended speculations of friendships in the plaza for the moment and most of the crowd began heading for their respective homes. Sgt. Garcia was loudly asking his new friend if she wanted a bit of refreshment in the tavern before leaving for her hacienda. The flustered lady apologized half-heartedly and entering her carriage left the pueblo in haste. Diego bid goodbye to his friends, and he and Bernardo mounted and headed for the hacienda. By the time they had arrived the light misting had developed into a full and heavy rain.**

* * *

**Before Christmas, the people had been praying for rain. Now after a week of steady, heavy downpours, people were now beginning to pray for it to cease. Alejandro looked out of the sala window and gazed at the wet flagstones of the patio. "You know, Diego, if this keeps up, we will have to build an ark to get around by Dia de Los Reyes," he quipped.**

**"Sí, Father, and I heard that one of the more remote missions was in danger from the mud slides. A messenger came into the pueblo yesterday and told Sgt. Garcia that lancers might be needed to help move the orphans and priests to the pueblo until this wet season ended," Diego explained. As if on cue, a lancer came through the gate and approached the house. Bernardo opened the door to let the bedraggled soldier in.**

**"Señores," Cpl. Reyes announced as he dripped great amounts of water on the floor near the doorway. "We need the use of any wagons and drivers you can spare. We have received word that the missions nearer the mountains must be evacuated. Many of the orphans are in danger and have to be brought nearer the pueblo."**

**"We have two wagons sturdy enough for that purpose, corporal. We will have them and drivers ready within the hour. Should they begin heading to the Mission San Gabriel?" Alejandro asked.**

**"Sí, Don Alejandro." Reyes looked down at the wet floor in embarrassment. "I must go to the other haciendas." As soon as Corporal Reyes left, Diego galvanized the servants in preparing the wagons. Bernardo insisted in going with one of them.**

**"Be careful, my friend, the roads can be dangerous. I will get some of the vaqueros together and follow shortly," Diego said. Bernardo signed that he would bring a wagon of orphans directly to the de la Vega hacienda by the shortest possible route. Diego nodded absently, thinking of what needed to be done.**

**He and his father instructed the servants to prepare for their guests. Then, after he had gathered the vaqueros and given them their instructions, he thought about Bernardo's comments and went to see his father, who was in the library. "Father, is there not a road between here and San Gabriel that you have mentioned always washes out when we have rains like this?"**

**"Sí, Diego, the one that goes from the Mountain of the Black Bears and near the pass just east of the boundary of our property. Why do you ask?" Alejandro asked, seeing the look of concern on his son's face.**

**Diego blanched. "That is where Bernardo said he was going to take a wagon load of children. He was going to bring them directly here by the shortest route. I must ride quickly and head him off. I have a bad feeling about this, Father, I should have paid more attention."**

**"Surely, my son, they would have warned him at the mission."**

**"I am going, nonetheless, and by the fastest means. Tornado." Diego was out of the room almost before the words had left his lips.**

**Soon he and the great black stallion were galloping up the road, Tornado's sure feet keeping a firm purchase on the wet, slick surface. Zorro watched the road ahead, thankful that his hat kept the worst of the rain out of his eyes. The cape was left at home to avoid the added weight the rainwater would give it. Even as he cantered through the pass, Zorro heard the distant thundering of displaced mud and rocks, but he couldn't push the horse any faster. The way was becoming more slippery as they ascended ever higher toward the Mountain of the Black Bears.**  
  
---  
**[Chapter Six](http://www.bookscape.net/holiday/juan6.htm)**  
---  
**[Chapter One](http://www.bookscape.net/holiday/juan1.htm)**  
**[Holiday Zorro Stories](http://www.bookscape.net/holiday/holidayintro.htm)**  
**[Zorro Contents](http://www.bookscape.net/zorrocontents.htm)**  
**[Main Page](http://www.bookscape.net/index.htm)**


	6. Juan

Juan

_**Juan's Christmas Gift**_  
  
---  
  
**Chapter Six - A Present for Dia de los Reyes**

**Bernardo drove the team of horses steadily through the ever-pouring rain. Despite the protection his hat and the poncho would normally have provided him, he had been soaked within the first mile from the hacienda. Before reaching the mission, the mute and his trail partner in the other wagon were met by a mission Indian, who informed them of the urgent need for one of them to go to the smaller mission and get the last of the children.**

**After getting the information in sign, Bernardo informed the servant driving the other wagon that he would go. A short time later when he arrived, the children were standing on the mission steps waiting anxiously. A young priest helped them into the back of the wagon and urged Bernardo to hasten. Distant rumbling sounds punctuated the priest’s words and the manservant turned the bedraggled animals around and started back down the mountainside.**

**The trip down the mountains was faster, but Bernardo's problem was in keeping the poor animals from slipping on the incline and going too fast. He looked nervously above him as they passed the Mountain of the Black Bears, hearing small noises that indicated a shifting of earth and rocks. Near the bottom of the mountain road, the wagon mired and nothing Bernardo and the priest did could dislodge the stuck wheels.**

**With a sigh, Bernardo unhitched the horses and admonished the young cleric, to take as many children on horseback as he could and keep going to the de la Vega hacienda. An older child was put in charge of the remaining orphans following on foot. As the group of children slogged through the mud and around the bend of the trail, the ominous rumbling that had frightened Bernardo earlier during the trip grew louder. Looking up, the servant saw part of the mountainside disengage itself from the bedrock and start cascading down the slope.**

**Eyes wide in horror, Bernardo ran as fast on the slippery trail as he could, but it wasn't fast enough. Glancing back he saw the mud push the wagon toward him at an incredible speed. With a cracking, grinding sound the wagon split apart and slid even faster toward him. The mozo tried to dodge the pieces of wagon bed, but was unable to move fast enough and was slammed against a boulder. Through red curtains of pain, he looked down and saw that the wagon's sideboard had him pinned immovable against the boulder.**

**Surprisingly, Bernardo was quite lucid after the initial waves of pain subsided, but saw that his injuries were most likely fatal. As the mud pressed the wood ever tighter, the pain subsided, although he could still feel the inexorable pressure. The manservant tried desperately to push the boards aside, but it was like trying to stop the river with a wave of a hand. It simply couldn't be done. The pressure against his diaphragm created problems with his breathing, and Bernardo stopped struggling and resigned himself to his fate. He worried about Don Diego and wondered who would help him when he was gone. Bernardo prayed that his patrón would be protected.**

* * *

**"Don Alejandro, I need a horse." Juan said simply. He had appeared at the sala door, shortly after Diego's departure, to the astonishment of the elder de la Vega. When Alejandro didn't answer quickly, he continued. "Señorde la Vega, I know that your son went in search of his manservant, who is, indeed, in grave danger. I need a horse, because his black stallion cannot alone do the job that will be needed in the mountains. Please, señor, time is of the essence."**

**Alejandro realized what the church worker was saying and stammered, "My son does not have a black stallion."**

**"But El Zorro does. Please, there is no time for word games, may I get a horse from your stable?" Juan asked.**

**Alejandro nodded and watched Juan dash toward the stables. Not long after that, the old man heard the soft clattering of hooves on the mud-coated stones.**

* * *

**Zorro saw the children and the priest trudging down through the pass and brought Tornado to a halt. "The de la Vega manservant, where is he?"**

**"Back up the pass, Señor Zorro. We thought he was following, but then we heard part of the mountain come down and we knew he had not made it. I had to take care of the children. I could not leave," the priest said sadly.**

**"I understand. The de la Vega hacienda is just a few miles further and you should not be in any danger of mud slides from this point on," Zorro informed them as he spurred Tornado on up the trail.**

**A short while further as he rounded the bend, he saw a sight that horrified him. Bernardo was pinned against a rock by mud and a piece of a wagon. The mute turned toward him with worried eyes and then motioned him back. Zorro ignored him. Seeing Bernardo able to communicate gave him hope. Forcing the black stallion through the knee-deep muck, the outlaw soon made his way close enough to tie a rope around part of the broken wagon. Bernardo once again motioned for him to leave. "No, Bernardo, never. Tornado will pull away this wood pinning you against the boulder and then I will take you back to the _hacienda_."**

**Bernardo signed the hopelessness of the situation. "NO, Bernardo, it is not hopeless!" Zorro cried. The mozo sagged against the boulder, his breathing ragged and labored.**

**"Diego, take this rope and tie it to the board. It will take both horses pulling." Zorro took the second rope without question and tied it near the first. Turning, he saw Juan urging both horses to pull. Slipping and sliding, the pair of animals was soon making headway, and Zorro saw the slow movement of the wagon piece away from Bernardo's body. As soon as there was room for him to approach the manservant, he reached in and grabbed Bernardo as he sagged in semi-consciousness.**

**The relief of pressure brought an overwhelming renewal of pain for the servant and he screamed soundlessly. In despair, he looked into the anxious face of his patrón, before darkness overtook him.**

**Zorro carried Bernardo far enough away from the thick mud to care for him in a place of relative safety. Juan walked at his elbow, steadying him when his boots slipped on the wet mud. Gently laying Bernardo down, he looked at the battered condition of his friend and with a cry of anguish, Zorro held the dying servant, trying to keep the rain out of the mute's face with his own body. He could feel the ebbing of life from Bernardo's body and Zorro felt that part of his own soul was dying as well.**

**"Diego, let me help," Juan said softly.**

**"There is nothing that can be done," Zorro said in a hoarse whisper.**

**"Diego, would you believe me if I said I could cure your servant's injuries?" Juan said in a low, but authoritative voice.**

**Zorro looked up, a ready retort on his lips, but something in Juan's eyes stopped him. He saw such power and compassion in the face of the church helper, as he could never imagine a mere mortal to have. Juan's face almost glowed. "Yes, I would," was all that Zorro could say and he looked back down at the servant who had served him with such devotion and loyalty these past years. "Yes, Juan, even though I know of no physician on Earth who could cure injuries such as these, if you say you can, then please do it."**

**"I have the power of the Master Physician, Diego. Continue to hold him for me," Juan told him as he gently laid his hands upon Bernardo's head. "Bernardo Hernan Treviño y Briales, I command you in the name of Jesus Christ, my Master, to be healed of these injuries, to rise and walk and serve your fellowmen once again."**

**Zorro had no doubt of the authority of Juan's words; he felt a flow of whatever power the healer possessed. It didn't strengthen him physically, but the despair he felt melted away, and he looked up at Juan in astonishment and wonder. Then he felt the renewed vigor of the man in his arms as Bernardo began to breathe normally again.**

**Suddenly, Bernardo opened his eyes and looked at both men, then looked down at his legs. Blood still mixed with mud on his trousers, but his legs were whole and he looked up to Juan, knowing that somehow he was the source of his succor. Signing his thanks, the mozo struggled to rise from the sodden ground. Zorro helped him, happily. Bernardo looked down in wonder once again and then back up at his patrón.**

**Happiness bubbled like a spring and Zorro began to laugh, grabbing his manservant in a bear hug, which Bernardo reciprocated. Looking over to the healer, all Zorro could say at that moment was thank you.**

**"Your faith helped make this happen, Diego. Miracles cannot happen without faith," Juan said quietly. "But you are very welcome. There is much more for you two to accomplish and neither of you can do it alone."**

**"Who are you, Juan?" Zorro asked, still awed, as he untied the ropes from the horses. "Where did you get such miraculous power?"**

**"As I said, my power comes from the Master Healer, in whose name I continue to work. My names are several. Juan Querido, Juan Revelador," he shrugged. "There are others, but the name is not important. The deeds, the service are what count as we make our journey through life."**

**Bernardo started signing furiously about the time Zorro dropped the ropes in shock. Shock that surged through his body. "The Revelator," he whispered. "Are you a ghost or returned from the dead?"**

**"No, Diego, I am very much alive, have been for a long time, will continue to be for some time to come," Juan laughed softly. "Until the Savior comes again. A request made and a promise given," he added softly.**

**Only for an instant did Zorro ponder. "It is no wonder there were disputes over the date of your death, because that event never occurred."**

**"Sí," Juan said simply. "And now I must leave you. I have finished here in Los Angeles and must journey on. Felice Navidad, Diego, Bernardo; remember who it is that you serve as you serve your fellowmen." With a wave and a smile, Juan walked up a little path along the side of the mountain and before the two men could say anything, the Revelator disappeared from sight.**

* * *

**Two days later, on January 6th, the day officially called Dia de Los Reyes, the two de la Vegas and Bernardo exchanged simple gifts in the sala as they watched the orphans in their care play with the gifts they had already received. The noisy chatter was much different from the normal quiet of the hacienda, but the men reveled in the children’s company. The mozo had ordered some new sheet music from Mexico and had it tied with a simple ribbon. Diego looked at it in appreciation and then looked back at Bernardo. In an voice filled with emotion, he only said, "Gracias, Bernardo, but God has given me the greatest gift that a man could receive on Dia de Los Reyes, and that is the promise of more years of companionship with a devoted and loyal friend."**

**The End**

**Merry Christmas**

* * *

_**Author's Source Notes:**_

****On Navidad-  
Mexico, the Culture by Bobbie Kalman  
Christmas in Mexico published by World Book Encyclopedia  
Christmas Around the World by Emily Kelley

**On Religious Matters-  
If anyone finds mistakes in the depiction of the Catholic religion, I make my apologies here. I took what little I knew and speculated as reverently as I could for the story. Again, please e-mail me with any corrections.**

**Sources for John the Revelator-  
Holy Bible, John 21: 20-23.  
Book of Mormon, page 461. (3 Nephi 28: 4-10).  
Doctrine and Covenants, page 13, 14. (D & C 7: 1-8)**

**Information on the Russian language and culture-  
I thank Olga Levina for her gracious assistance. She has been invaluable in helping me re-edit this story, but any mistakes are to be laid solely on my lap. Thank you to all for your input and loving comments.**  
  
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[](mailto:firstbookscape@gmail.com) **Comments? Questions? Just email me. Let me know what you thought.**  
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